


The Unicorn

by poetroe



Category: Glee
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Superheroes/Superpowers, F/F, High School, Homophobia, Slow Burn, Slushies, Superpowers, this is kind of a crackfic lmao
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-12-18
Updated: 2018-12-27
Packaged: 2019-09-22 03:46:51
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 4,054
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17052503
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/poetroe/pseuds/poetroe
Summary: There is one thing about herself that Brittany has never shared with anyone, that no one knows about. The most simple explanation is this: Brittany is a superhero, and Lord Tubbington is her sidekick. Santana, on the other hand, has all the makings of a Lima Heights girl: she steals, curses and fights her way through life.A Brittana Superhero AU





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> I loooove superhero/vigilante au's (already wrote a swanqueen one a while back) and then I got the best idea for a brittana superhero fic. I'm not good at regular updates usually but I've already finished the first two chapters so I'm gonna try to keep a regular updating schedule !! This first chapter might be a little slow, but I promise things are taking off in the next. Enjoy reading!

Santana peers over her shoulder as she power-walks through the neighborhood. The breeze hits her bare arms, but it’s the end of summer so it’s not nearly enough to make her feel cold. Besides, she’s a straight up bitch; she’s always cold. The stereo rattles a little bit at every step Santana takes, and she curses under her breath at the annoying piece of technology. Soon enough, she reaches her car; a black Camry, parked in the shade of a big red maple tree, almost invisible in the night. Santana quietly opens the trunk, dumps the stereo in it, along with the jewelry that had been stuffed in the loose pockets of her sweatpants. It’s not really burglary attire, but the black tank over the black pants make her inconspicuous enough.

Once the loot is hidden beneath a blanket, Santana closes the trunk, sits behind the steering wheel and drives away, all as silently as she possibly can. She leaves West Lima and drives south, across the train tracks that cut through the city like a border, entering Lima’s most notorious neighborhood, Lima Heights. Santana pushes the gas pedal down a little further as she passes the older houses and cluttered front yards. The light from the streetlights bathes the world in yellow and black; transforming this road that Santana drives on near daily into something out of another universe.

Soon enough, Santana drives past the public pool, and into what she lovingly calls ‘Lima Heights Adjacent’. Despite the area, Adjacent—which is actually called Fairview, or Pill Hill among Lima natives, because of the number of doctors living there—is one of the best neighborhoods in town. It’s ironic, Santana supposes, that she lives here. She has all the makings of a Heights girl: she steals, curses and fights her way through life, but at the end of the day daddy is still a general practitioner with an above average income.

Her proximity to Lima Heights has allowed her to keep in touch with her friends there, though. Santana’s partner in literal crime is Puck, a by all means stupid kid, but he’s been sticking up for her since preschool and that means something, regardless of where you’re from. Santana’s other best friend is Quinn, her neighbor in Fairview. They met on their first day at McKinley High, during Cheerios tryouts. Quinn had been as amazing as Santana doing her cartwheels, arabians and somersaults, and a mutual respect had solidified between the two of them pretty quickly. Santana glances out the window when she passes Quinn’s house. The lights are all off, which makes sense; Quinn is nothing if not a stickler for discipline and rules. Santana, on the other hand, just doesn’t really care. About a lot of things, really.

Eventually, she reaches her own house and tries to park her car in such a way that it seems like it had never left the driveway. Santana exits her car silently and sneaks into the house, and up to her room. The stereo and the jewelry are fine where they are, she decides. Puck can come by and get them tomorrow. The clock reads 4 am when Santana finally slips under the covers and closes her eyes.

 

Burglary is not only morally bad, Santana thinks when she enters the school at 8 am sharp, it’s also completely ruining her sleeping schedule. The bags under her eyes are meticulously hidden away beneath a layer of concealer, but she can still feel the tiredness in her limbs despite having downed two cups of coffee this morning. Cheerios practice this afternoon is going to be literal hell on earth.

Santana makes her way into the geography classroom five minutes late, rolls her eyes at Mrs. Hagberg when she berates her for being late and takes her seat in the back of the class. She sits down and, with a deep sigh, pulls her geography book out of her backpack. Mrs. Hagberg—or as Santana calls her, the Hag—is rattling off about volcanos and tectonic plates, and it’s not until she starts droning on about basalt that Santana notices she’s not sitting alone. To her right, in the seat that’s normally reserved for Santana’s backpack, is a blonde girl. Jesus, Santana thinks, I must be really out of it today, I didn’t notice her at _all_.

One of the things Santana prides herself on is knowing everyone in school. At least, everyone who is somebody important, or attractive. The girl next to her certainly is the latter, with her bright blue eyes and hair styled carefully into a tight ponytail. She’s also wearing the same Cheerios uniform that Santana is, which, what the hell? Santana knows every cheerleader on the squad, and this girl isn’t one. At least, not before today.

“Sorry, but who are you?” Santana whispers bluntly. The girl spins around with wide eyes, clearly not having expected Santana to start talking to her.

“Oh, I’m Brittany,” she whispers back. “I’m new.”

“How the hell did you make the squad on your first day?” Santana hisses incredulously, ignoring the looks that the Hag is sending them and instead staring at the WMHS that’s emblazoned on the front of Brittany’s uniform. Brittany’s expression turns a little sheepish.

“I, uh, actually transferred here to join the Cheerios. Coach Silvester saw me at my old school, I guess she was impressed,” she answers in a whisper.

That makes sense. Santana lets her eyes wander over Brittany’s posture. She’s muscular, not to mention pretty; and if Sue let her transfer here in the middle of the school year, she must be the real deal. She shoots the new girl a grin. “I’ll see you at practice, then.”

 

Apart from Sue’s hawk eyes on the slightest sluggishness to her movements during their routines, Cheerios practice is uneventful. Santana spends most of it thinking about meeting up with Puck after, making sure to tell him to sell the gold at a high price, maybe making out with him a little bit. When she’s not thinking about that particular extracurricular, Santana lets her eyes find Brittany, who moves like she was born to fly around in the air, twisting through it like an Olympian. Their eyes meet, Brittany smiles, and Santana thinks it must be her exhaustion when she suddenly feels somewhat lightheaded.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Since I already finished this have a second chapter!! hope this au will make some more sense now (if it didn't before) and as always I hope y'all enjoy!

The kids at McKinley are very nice. That’s Brittany’s assessment after her first day—sure, she’d gotten a couple of stares throughout it, but didn’t every new kid? Besides, she likes the attention. It’s kind of why she became a cheerleader in the first place.

“…Okay, maybe that’s not the whole truth,” Brittany mutters as she scratches Lord Tubbington behind his ears. The cat looks at her with an expression that reads: no it isn’t, and I know it as well as you do. Brittany sighs and plops down on her new bed.

Her parents move around a lot, so getting a new bed is as routine for her as enrolling in a new school, or making new friends, or getting to know her new city. It sucks most of the time, but then again it might be a good thing Brittany moves so often. After all, if she stayed in one place for too long, people might start to notice. Brittany sighs again. The beginning is always the most difficult, she reminds herself. Things will get easier once she’s settled. Brittany keeps staring at the off-white ceiling while Lord Tubbington crawls onto her belly and pushes his head under her hand, begging to be petted.

“I know we haven’t been here for that long,” Brittany says, “but I think it’s time to make the rounds today. If only to get our minds off things.” Lord Tubbington meows in agreement.

 

There is one thing about herself that Brittany has never shared with anyone, except for her parents, but since they haven’t ever believed her, they don’t really count. Not that she blames them; it’s something most people wouldn’t believe. I’ll probably have to keep this to myself forever, Brittany thinks as she climbs up on the roof of her new house. The thought makes her sad, so she shakes her head wildly in effort to get rid of it, careful not to fall down in the process. Lord Tubbington follows her on her climb up from the window of her room and soon, with a little help from Brittany’s part, they’re both sitting on the ledge, in the moonlight.

“You ready?” Brittany asks her cat, who stays silent. That’s a resounding yes, Brittany thinks with a smile, and she sets Lord Tubbington down next to her. This next part always requires a bit of concentration.

There is one thing about herself that Brittany has never shared with anyone, that no one knows about. The most simple explanation is this: Brittany is a superhero, and Lord Tubbington is her sidekick. The most elaborate one is this: ever since she was ten years old, Brittany gets powers. But only at night, and only when she’s feeling happy. Also ever since she was ten years old, Lord Tubbington transforms from the lazy housecat that he is into a lean, strong, black panther.

Brittany has no clue as to how, or why, only that these powers are her responsibility now, and that she has to use them for good. So, that’s what she does; clad in her trademark purple unicorn hoodie, wearing her pastel purple and blue unicorn headband, and a pair of pink sunglasses, for anonymity. At night, she becomes the Unicorn; protector of innocents, apprehender of criminals, achiever of justice. With the help of that ginormous black panther, of course. Brittany strokes over the velvety, shiny black coat of Lord Tubbington, before standing up.

“Let’s go, Tubbs,” she says with a crooked smile. Lord Tubbington growls softly in agreement, a low rumbling that always reminds Brittany of the sound of thunder. With a cartwheel and a flourish, Brittany tumbles over the edge of the roof confidently; she knows her powers won’t let her fall, instead she flutters down like an autumn leaf in the breeze. Lord Tubbington takes a more calculated approach, jumping to the nearest treetop before climbing down. Together, they start strolling down the sidewalk.

 

Lima is really quiet at night. There are no signs of robberies, burglaries, kidnappings or other criminal activities anywhere. Brittany sighs as she surveys her surroundings. She and Lord Tubbington had walked all the way to the other side of town over the last hour or two, with nothing to show for it so far.

“Guess we really hit the jackpot this time, huh?” Brittany tells Lord Tubbington with a small smile. “This has to be the safest town yet.” Lord Tubbington growls and slumps down on the road, obviously bored out of his mind. Brittany crouches down next to him and scratches him behind his ears, a gesture he enjoys regardless of form. “It’s okay, let’s go get some sleep. We’ll just try again later.” With that, Brittany stands up and turns around, glancing at her watch as she starts walking down the way they came from. Walking back would take another hour at least, she remembers with a grimace as Lord Tubbington scrambles to catch up with her. No matter, though, Brittany thinks. Sleep deprivation is also part of a superhero’s job.

It’s when they enter a more rundown part of town that Brittany realizes she might be a little lost.

“Say, Lord Tubbington, did we come through here before?” she asks the jungle cat. Lord Tubbington ignores her in favor of sniffing a trash bag that’s been left on the side of the street. Brittany frowns and pulls him away from it as she continues walking. There are two figures next to a car in the distance, the first people they’ve encountered all night. “Look,” she whispers.

As they approach the pair, quiet and ever in the shadows, Brittany notices the amount of valuable goods in the open trunk of the black car. A television, a stereo, some other expensive looking technological things, and a load of gold jewelry. This is looking a suspicious amount like the loot from a break-in, and Brittany approaches the two figures, who are still standing with their backs towards her.

“Uh, hey,” she starts as she taps the shorter of the two on the shoulder. A black-haired girl turns around with a murderous expression on her face. It might be the shadows that fall on her face in the night, Brittany thinks, but she looks really pissed off.

“What,” the girl hisses angrily and okay, it’s definitely not just the shadows.

“Did you guys steal that stuff?” Brittany asks. Experience learns that it’s best to get straight to business in cases like these. The girl looks taken aback with her bluntness, but the tall boy next to her simply starts grinning and runs his hand over his short mohawk.

“Hell yes,” he says, earning him a smack on the arm from the girl. Brittany can’t help but grin.

“Then I’m going to have to arrest you,” she says airily, earning her a couple of incredulous looks. That’s nothing new to Brittany, who honestly doesn’t get taken seriously often enough, so she snaps her fingers and there is Lord Tubbington, emerging silently from the shadows and looking as fearsome as she’s ever seen him. The girl shrieks and starts sprinting away instantly, so Brittany starts the chase, trusting Lord Tubbington to take care of the boy.

Super speed isn’t part of her powers, but Brittany prides herself on her running nonetheless. She’s barely out of breath when she catches up with the girl, who manages to close the door of her car just before Brittany arrives. The car won’t start, however, so Brittany just pushes her sunglasses a bit higher on her nose and taps on the driver seat window. She waits a while, and when it becomes apparent that the car isn’t working with her tonight, the girl rolls down her window.

“What,” she says again, with the same venom in her voice as earlier.

“Look,” Brittany says, “that other guy already admitted to stealing, so I just have to know to what extent you were involved. If you were, I’m taking you to the police station.” The girl looks at her with a raised eyebrow, like Brittany doesn’t know how strange it is that she’s actually offering her an out. But Brittany isn’t a member of the police, or the army, and when she feels like giving people a second chance, she damn well gets to give it to them. It’s not like the stolen goods won’t find their way back home, anyways.

“Uh, I wasn’t,” the girl finally answers.

“Okay,” Brittany answers, offering a slight smile. “If your car keeps giving you trouble, I can give you a lift home, if you want?”

“No thanks,” she says, before starting to roll the window up again. Brittany looks at her for a moment, before shrugging and returning to where Lord Tubbington has the boy pinned to the asphalt.

“So,” she says when she reaches them, “can you tell me which way the police station is? I’m new in town.”


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> To everyone reading this, I hope y'all had a nice xmas!! Things are getting real this chapter, so please consider this your warning for canon-typical homophobia. Also please leave a comment if you can! They always make my day!

The new girl is kind of cute. It’s what Santana notices after being assigned to each other as partners for their upcoming geography project. Not that she hadn’t noticed it before, but working with Brittany in close proximity exposes her to an infinite amount of doe-eyed looks, like Brittany is instantly confused whenever someone involves her in a conversation; like they’re a tv show with ten minutes until the end and Brittany has only just tuned in.

She’s smart though, and instantly notices when Santana has once again spent the better part of the night breaking the law.

“You look tired,” she says as Santana sits down next to her, five minutes late.

“I _am_ tired,” Santana answers, rubbing at the sleep in her eyes. She slept for as long as she could manage this morning, foregoing make-up and breakfast for a few more minutes under the covers. It hadn’t really helped, since she still felt like collapsing on the spot. Brittany offers her a sympathetic smile.

“Whenever I can’t sleep, I think about counting the spots on a leopard, and then I usually fall asleep within like, five minutes,” she says. Santana smiles back.

“You’re really into cats, aren’t you?” she says, remembering Brittany’s stories about her own cat, Lord Tubbington.

“Oh yeah,” Brittany answers. “They’re the best. Though maybe I just think that because I can see myself in them.” They’re supposed to be making a presentation about a natural phenomenon, but Santana can only quirk a smile and gesture for Brittany to explain. “Staring out the window, falling asleep in warm places, falling from great heights and landing safely… I do all of those things.”

“Now that you mention it,” Santana starts, “that first one does sound kind of familiar.” Her grin widens at seeing the blush appear on Brittany’s cheeks, having already been caught daydreaming a number of times despite only being Santana’s friend for like a week, now. “The last one, too. Don’t think I haven’t noticed you managing to stick all of your landings. Honestly I wouldn’t be surprised if Coach makes you do the human cannonball for Nationals.” Brittany suddenly looks a little stressed, even through the tiny smile that appears every time Santana compliments her on her gymnastics. “Don’t worry,” Santana says, smiling in a way she hopes comes off as comforting, “if Sue ever entertains _that_ idea, she’ll have to go through me first.” The worry on Brittany’s face dissipates like snow in the sun, and her smile broadens.

 

Puck has been arrested and thrown in Juvie, so Santana has been laying low for the past week, hoping for whatever happened to them that night to blow over. She’s still half-convinced that that delinquent put something in her coke that made her hallucinate, because some parts of the night of Puck’s arrest just don’t add up. Like, a giant black panther, pouncing on Puck as she ran off. Or the strange unicorn girl that chased her all the way to her car, only to let her off easy and offer her a ride? Who had that girl been anyway, talking about arresting her like she has the authority to do so. All in all, it feels like Santana can’t trust her own memory and she hates how incompetent it makes her feel. Becoming a part-time criminal was about scoring a little extra cash and hanging out with Puck, not almost being arrested and chased by a lunatic and a fucking _panther_. If that even really happened.

Santana blinks a couple of times and forces herself to think about something else, as she shuts off the shower and grabs her towel. Quinn is the captain of the Cheerios squad and Santana is her vice-captain in every sense but the official one, which means that the both of them are the first ones in and the last ones out of the locker room. Quinn is already dressed and pulling her hair up in a ponytail.

“I have to go,” she says, “date with Finn.” Santana rolls her eyes at the mention of the resident giant, but refrains from saying anything mean. You know, because she’s such a good friend.

“Have fun,” Santana says as she starts to dry off. “Try not to get crushed underneath that gargantuan body.” Oh well, at least she tried this time. Quinn smirks at the comment but doesn’t say anything else, instead giving Santana a little wave before leaving.

She takes her time getting dressed, before sitting on the bench and scrolling through her texts aimlessly. This happens more often than Santana would ever admit. She isn’t known for wasting time, but sometimes she wishes she’d never have to leave this place; silent, warm and humid from the showers, smelling strangely sweet from everyone’s individual deodorants. This is probably her favorite place in school, Santana wonders, before leaning her head back against the lockers.

Then the door gets thrown open, and Santana’s moment of peace is gone. In the doorway stands Brittany, looking slightly flustered as if she ran here but standing frozen at the sight of Santana, who can’t help but smirk.

“Hey, Britt,” she says, unmoving. An easy smile glides over Brittany’s features.

“Hey,” she answers, a little breathless, sitting down next to Santana and dropping her bag to the floor. “It’s kind of dumb, but I was already halfway home before I realized I left my uniform at school.” Santana chuckles. Despite knowing the other girl for only the past week, forgetfulness seems awfully in character.

“That must’ve happened to me at least a dozen times freshman year,” Santana says, eyes straying to the ceiling as she remembers this same locker room and feeling a lot more unsure of herself. “Sometimes I’d just let it be and then my mom got all mad, telling me she wasn’t going to wash my uniform if I couldn’t be bothered to remember to take it with me.”

“Ah, blackmail,” Brittany says with a serious expression. “My least favorite kind of mail.” Maybe it’s the deadpan way in which she says it, or the sheer _badness_ of the joke, but it has Santana laughing so hard that she doubles over and almost falls off the bench.

 

The first time Brittany is on the receiving end of a slushie happens halfway through her second week at McKinley. Santana is shocked: Brittany is by no means the ‘new kid’ anymore, not with her current rate of making friends. And being the flashing new member of the Cheerios should put her at the very top of high school hierarchy; that is, if being Santana’s new bestie hadn’t already put her there.

So when Brittany doesn’t show up to geography and Santana finds her in the bathroom, face wet in a mix of blueberry slushie and tears, she’s stunned. Stunned and horrified, because this should never have happened.

“Hey,” Santana says softly as she breaks herself out of her stupor and approaches Brittany, who is standing in front of the sink, wiping the ice from her eyes. Not caring about the colored ice and the stains it might leave on her uniform, Santana folds an arm around Brittany’s shoulders and pulls her close. She grabs a paper towel from the dispenser with her free hand and tries to wipe the other girl’s face clean as gently as she can. “What happened?” Brittany leans into Santana, thick tears still rolling down her cheeks.

“I don’t know,” she says, and Santana feels her shiver. “I was at my locker, getting the stuff for our project, when a couple boys walked up to me. They were hockey players, I think.” She takes the paper towel from Santana’s hand and wipes at her eyes, a futile effort to stop more tears from escaping. “They asked me if I was gay.” Santana freezes again at those words.

“And?” she whispers. The bits of blueberry ice melting in Brittany’s hair are enough of an answer, but she asks anyway. A fierce anger starts uncoiling in the pit of her stomach and Santana can feel her face getting flushed. She doesn’t want it yet; she has to be here for Brittany. The flame of her anger is tamed, not yet extinguished. Santana keeps it hidden away in her stomach, so she can unleash all hell on those puckheads when the time comes. For right now, she’s still, never looking away from Brittany’s face.

“Yes,” Brittany finally answers, resigned. “I’m just—” She sighs and looks down at her white tennis shoes, that now have blue drops on them. “…I’m into boys _and_ girls. I don’t see why that’s such a big deal.” Brittany looks back up at Santana, her eyes clear despite how watery they are, and Santana feels her heart break a little bit for this girl.

“It’s not,” she says, before pulling Brittany against her tightly, in a hug. “It’s okay.” If it wasn’t before, her Cheerios uniform is probably stained in the process, but Santana doesn’t care. If anything, she wouldn’t really mind the fact that she matches with Brittany, now.


End file.
